


Calm After A Storm

by Cliophilyra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Smut, Bottom Gabriel, Dean/Cas (mentioned only), Fluff, M/M, PWP, Pining, Storms, Top Sam, continuing my weird obsession with writing about weather, not much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/pseuds/Cliophilyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a windy night and Sam is lonely and misses his archangel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm After A Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Plotless silly thing I wrote because of the weather. Weather seems to inspire me more than anything else for some reason! Anyway - I hope you enjoy it! Xx

The windows are rattling in their flaky, rotten frames. One window is cracked, missing a tiny jagged triangle from the corner, courtesy of their battle with the monster du jour. 

The glass bounces and thumps as wind streams through the hole. Curtains flick and billow, rogue gusts of cold air push at the edges of the blankets that Sam has pulled around himself. 

Outside, the wind roars through the trees surrounding the motel. The sound reminds him of applause, a crowd cheering in the distance. For some reason he thinks the applause sounds sarcastic.

Over the dry rush of leaves the rhythmic clanging of a rope against a metal flag pole beats time in the parking lot. 

Occasionally something blows past the room; a trash can? Loud cacophony of crashes and rumbles as it bounces across the gravel. A darker, rounder sound like a barrel rolling. A fluttering of thin plastic grocery bags flying past the window. 

There is a sharp thump against the connecting wall behind his head and Sam sighs. It seems that he's not the only one being kept awake by the wind. 

Then the banging on the wall seems to settle into a rhythm of sorts; he can hear the squeal of old motel bed springs under it. Then deeper sounds that could be muffled words, or something close. He lies for a moment, staring blankly at the ceiling until he hears a sadly unmistakable shaky moan from next door. 

With a grimace he covers his head with his pillow, trying to drown out the cacophony of wind, flying trash and the horrific sound of his brother banging an angel.

He closes his eyes and presses the pillow closer with a groan. It's really not fair. Until recently he'd been the one doing the mental tormenting. 

He and his Archangel were shaking the walls and making plaster fall off shitty motel ceilings well before his brother and Cas had even got past the soulful staring stage.

But then the apocalypse was over and they won and it turned out that Heaven really needed it's last surviving archangel and how could one human stand in the way of all that? So when Gabriel was called back he hadn't stood in the way. 

It's been a month of pretending he's ok with it. Pretending it doesn't hurt. Pretending that the noises through the wall and the looks they give each other don't pull at the loneliness he hides from them. He doesn't want them to feel bad for being happy at last.

Nights like this are hard. He can't sleep, the storm has knocked the tv out and all he can think of is the cold and how it used to feel to have someone beside him. To wrap his arms around a warm, solid body, bury his face in Gabriel's hair and feel soft lips pressed against his skin. He misses the sheer, boneless, comfort he felt in Gabriel's presence. His lightness, his smile, the way he refused to take anything too seriously. Sam has a habit of taking things too seriously.

He turns onto his side, away from the window with a sigh, abandoning the pillow as a futile endeavour and pulling the blankets tighter around himself, huddled and tense against the cold.

The curtains flap again, he wonders if he should get up and try and fix the window but he has already tried once and it made no fucking difference; a piece of cardboard flaps in the gale, still clinging to the glass by one piece of tape.

Something indescribably soft touches the side of his face, so lightly that he doubts for a second that there was anything there but warmth. Then he smells it; an ancient scent of spice and Amber and church incense and metal and...candy.

He stiffens in surprise for a second but then, without permission from his brain, he is turning over and wrapping his arms around his archangel and, although he shouldn't let it - there are things that should be said first - he feels the tension of the cold and the loneliness slide away, chased by the warmth of feathers.

He opens his eyes and finds amber staring back at him. Gabriel raises a hand and brushes away a strand of tangled hair. "Hey kiddo," he sounds muted, tentative and a little bit sad.

Sam swallows and doesn't reply, instead he presses his lips to Gabriel's and gives into the longing that he had tried so hard to ignore.

Gabriel kisses back like a drowning man as Sam clutches his shoulders and pulls him over to him, moving his hands down over warm skin to grasp at Gabriel's ass. He's not sure if Gabriel was naked when he appeared, but he definitely is now. 

Miles of golden, heated skin under his hands. He moves slowly, skimming fingers up Gabriel's sides, strong arms, solid shoulders. He can't see his wings but he knows they're there. When his fingers reach the place between Gabriel's shoulder blades he presses them into his skin and is rewarded with an open mouthed, blissed out expression and a long shuddering groan. Shit he has missed this.

He pulls him down again to kiss him hard. Gabriel's hands, either side of Sam's head as he straddles him, clutch at the pillow Sam had used to drown out his loneliness.

Sam wraps his arms around Gabriel and flips them so that he is holding himself up, staring down at copper eyes and that small, pleased smirk. He wants to talk about what happened, what is happening. He wants to ask if Gabriel will stay but he can't. He can't ask an archangel to choose him over heaven. He is certain that he's not worth that. 

So he doesn't speak because if this is just an angelic booty call he doesn't want to know now.

Because he has missed this face, those eyes, that stupid smile, the hands that are dragging through his hair, more than he can explain; more than he even realised until the moment he saw him again.

He gasps at the feel of short nails raking over his scalp, raising goosebumps and making him shiver. He leans down to claim Gabriel's lips again, licking into the heat of his mouth, sliding their tongues together and groaning at the sensation of happy and right and mine that blooms in his chest. 

He moves down, trailing kisses over his angel's neck and collarbone, nipping gently at tan skin and feeling ever so slightly like he is going to get in trouble for marking an archangel, for wanting to claim him.

Gabriel doesn't seem to mind. His head has dropped back, his eyes are half closed, lashes fluttering, breath coming shallow and stuttering with every touch of Sam's lips. 

His hands move up, over the strong, shifting muscles of Sam's back, nails digging in to the edge of pain. Sam moans against his throat and Gabriel whines. He wraps his legs around Sam's waist, grabs his ass and grinds up, pressing the rigid length of his erection against Sam's

Sam bites down harder than he meant to but Gabriel just grips him tighter and grinds against him again. "C'mon Sam, need to feel you," his voice is cracked and desperate. No sign of the usual lightness or snark. 

Sam doesn't need telling twice, his cock is so hard it hurts and it takes a lot of his small reserve of will power not to come the moment he lines himself up and pushes into Gabriel in one long slow slide, grateful, not for the first time for the many surprising benefits of arch-angelic power. 

Gabriel groans loud enough to drown out the storm and Sam closes his eyes, gasping at the tight, hot grip surrounding him. He hisses as Gabriel wraps his legs tighter, dragging him deeper. He is not going to last long. 

Sam tries to hit a rhythm but all he really wants is to let go. He tries to think unsexy thoughts but suddenly, all he can think of is how he needs to see the way Gabriel lights up, almost literally, when he comes. He bites his lip and rolls his hips, marvelling at how good it feels to be here again, to watch Gabriel fall apart underneath him, the flush on his skin, the fever-brightness of his eyes, the way his lips part, white where his teeth dig in. He is beautiful.

"Oh fuck Sam, I missed you, missed this. Don't make me go away again," he sighs and Sam would be confused if he wasn't lost in a swirling storm of lust and pleasure, every bit as chaotic as the one outside. As it is he just leans down and kisses Gabriel with everything he's got.

Gabriel kisses back like he might never get another chance and then throws his head back again as Sam quickens his thrusts, snapping his hips. Words tumble in a meaningless litany. "Oh fuck, shit, oh fuck Sammy fuck me. You feel so fucking....fuck yes...yes."

Sam feels Gabriel clench around his cock as he comes untouched between them with a cry. The sight of him, so debauched and so utterly gorgeous all it takes to shove Sam over the edge and he comes hard, panting hot breaths against Gabriel's neck, hands grasping his hips, tight enough to bruise.

He collapses against Gabriel with a groan and lies still, lost in pleasent post coital fuzz. Not quite ready to face Gabriel leaving just yet. 

Although...what was it he had said?

He presses soft kisses into Gabriel's neck, earning a warm, contented sound and the invisible flicker of feathers against his back. He raises himself on his arms as Gabriel looks back at him, a lazy smile curling the edges of his mouth. 

"What did you say before?" Sam asks softly. The first words he's said since the archangel appeared.

Gabriel looks away awkwardly and sighs. "Nothing kiddo. It's ok, I know I can't stay. You've got stuff to do; places to go, monsters to kill. I just really, really needed to see you again."

"I've got stuff to do?" Sam asks, confused. He falls to the side, propping his head on a hand and frowning at Gabriel. "I've always had stuff to do, arguably more than I have now! Certainly not as much as you have. I get why you can't stay, they need you now. They're your family and I understand why that takes priority. I would never ask you to give all that up just for me." It's not a lie exactly, just because he understands doesn't mean he has to like it.

Gabriel laughs. "My family are a bunch of dicks. Their stupid shit got my brothers killed and now all they do is bitch and whine and scheme against each other," he looks sad for a moment. "I'm sick of them, I'm sick of heaven. Let them sort their own shit out. I would give them up for you in a nanosecond." He turns his head to look at Sam who can't stop staring, "I thought you didn't want me here? You seemed so keen for me to go back upstairs. I figured you'd just wanted it to be a 'last several nights on earth' kinda deal?"

Sam raises his eyebrows. He feels like his heart is several sizes too big. Before he can engage his brain, he hears himself saying, "Gabriel you are a fucking idiot. I love you," His heart beats faster and he feels a mild panic creep over him but he ploughs on, because the moment he said the words he knew they were true, "Why the fuck would I want you to leave? I thought you wanted to go back, I didn't want you to feel like you had to stay for me."

Gabriel doesn't say anything. He is staring at Sam and his eyes are huge and the colour of the autumn leaves blowing in blizzards outside the window. He looks askance for a moment, as if he's unsure of something and Sam knows what he means because he heard it too. He smiles.

Gabriel suddenly twists to face him. "You love me," he says with a massive grin. "You definitely said you love me."

Sam looks at him fondly. "I can still change my mind you know," he warns.

Gabriel raises a hand to Sam's face and gently smooths damp hair away from his forehead. "I love you too Sasquatch," he says, "Mind if I stick around?"

Sam kisses him, long and slow and soft.

After a while Gabriel rests his head on Sam's chest, arms across his stomach, lips pressing an occasional kiss to his chest. Sam folds his arms around his archangel and kisses his hair. 

The raging gale outside has been joined by a downpour now. The rain is rattling against the windows. Sam watches it streaming down in a wavering, translucent curtain. 

He can still hear the muffled clanking of the flagpole rope and the roar of the madly shaking trees. There is still a chill draft streaming through the hole in the window, although it's now accompanied by an occasional splatter of errant rain, which has already soaked a small patch of carpet by the window.

This time though he finds it soothing. He loves the sounds; the chaos and susurration, because it feels like they have hidden themselves away from it. They are alone, protected from the elements by each other's presence. The applause doesn't sound sarcastic anymore. 

The sound of Gabriel's soft, regular breathing, as he slips into the sleep he doesn't need but still enjoys, lulls Sam. Gradually his eyes close and his limbs feel weightless and the storm feels like waves crashing on a shore a long way off.


End file.
